


stars in the sky don't mean nothin'

by kathikon



Series: gen kill star wars au [1]
Category: Generation Kill, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (Pretty much), (again), (is anyone REALLY surprised), Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Brad Suffers, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotions, Everyone is Dead, Explicit Language, Gen, Goodbyes, Horrible Ways to Die, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jedi Brad Colbert, Jedi Ray Person, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Gore, Obi-Wan cameo, Order 66, Out of Character, Padawan James Trombley, Post-Order 66, Sad Ending, The Dark Side of the Force, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathikon/pseuds/kathikon
Summary: Brad’s vision whited out, a ringing sound roaring in his head.This couldn’t be happening.This couldn’t be real.
Relationships: Brad Colbert & James Trombley, Brad Colbert & Ray Person, Brad Colbert/Nate Fick
Series: gen kill star wars au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727335
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	stars in the sky don't mean nothin'

**Author's Note:**

> title from "i don't want to talk about it" by rod stewart
> 
> the characters in this are fictional, as portrayed in the hbo miniseries generation kill. no disrespect/implications about any of the real marines is intended, this is a work of fiction written for fun.

Brad looked over the holomap, lips pulled into a tight frown.

“Ray, tell me what I’m supposed to be looking at here. It’s your plan after all.” He waved his hand towards his former padawan, eyebrows raised at the young Jedi knight. 

“Well, you see,” he began, wiping his hands off on his tunic, grinning wide as he zoomed in on the map, where miniature versions of the droid army marched along a canyon, twisting along the surface of the planet. “Those rust buckets control the land around the ravine, which is keeping us from just dropping in on them. They outnumber us in sheer volume of bodies, but I think throwing men at _Hailfire_ class tanks and ion canons is just about the stupidest fucking idea I’ve ever heard. As much as that moronic, nerf-herding fucknut Schwetje loves to do that, he was Krell’s padawan, and it’s evidently the one thing he learned from that dick. We don’t have the numbers for that. We’ve got about a battalion of clones- not enough to take the Separatists on in a frontal assault.”  
“However, it turns out there's a series of tunnels they’ll have to pass through to reach our location. I did the math, and they’re likely to pass through the northern tunnel- it’s the only one large enough to fit the Enforcer tanks at a reasonable pace, and possibly ground troops will come through the smaller tunnel to the west.”  
“I was thinking that we could detonate thermals in the northern tunnel, force them to bottleneck in the canyon and the western tunnel, and take them out as they come through.”

Brad nodded thoughtfully, a small smile spreading across his face. Unorthodox, but Ray’d always been a little creative, less confined to the strict teachings that Wynn had instilled in Brad when he was young. Ray always claimed to have simply forgotten Brad’s lessons, but he had an inkling that the younger Jedi knew them perfectly well- he simply ignored them.

He chewed his lip, thoughtful, then looked up to Ray. 

“Very well. Trombley,” he turned to address his new padawan, the young man looking up from where he’d been taking notes on a datapad. “I want you to take a squad of troopers, set thermals through the Northern tunnel, then get out. Blow it when the droids start coming through- the weight of the rocks should crush the tanks. Ray and I will lead the rest of the clones to set up positions in the other tunnel. Once we take them out, we should be able to take the city.” He closed the map, crossing his arms across his chest. “Am I clear?”

“Yessir,” Trombley chirped, setting the datapad down and stretching before he trotted off, pleased. His lightsaber was at his hip, but on his back, the padawan carried a blaster rifle, which made Ray tut in distaste.

“He’s too comfortable with a blaster. That’s not very Jedi of him- you sure the little psycho is force sensitive, Iceman?” he asked, watching Trombley as he left. 

“Yes, Ray. He’s just… _unorthodox._ Like you.” Despite his words, Brad shook his head a little. Trombley _was_ too comfortable with the weapon. If he hadn’t been proficient in his lightsaber skills, Brad would have made steps against the action, but the boy truly was a prodigy. Both of his padawans were, though in different ways. 

Neither quite matched Brad’s favouritism of Djem So and Niman, but he truly couldn’t complain, not when both were capable in their own preferences.

“He’s got potential. As soon as he stops running headfirst into danger.” _And when he stops letting his emotions rule him._

He left his true worries unspoken- they were not Ray’s burdens to bear.  
He gave Ray a small nod. “I will meet you shortly. I have to speak to the council.”

“Senator Fick is _not_ the council, but whatever you say. At least tell him I said hi.”

Brad felt his ears go red as he walked away (was he that bad at hiding his affair?), heading behind some crates before pulling out his holocom and starting it up. A moment later and he could see Nate’s face, smiling ever so slightly.

“Hello there, senator,” he drawled, a small smile quirking at the corners of his lips. “How’s the weather on Corellia?” _I miss you_.

“Sunny, as always, Master Colbert.” _I miss you too._ “Any particular reason you reached out, or is this a social call?” The senator looked amused, though his eyes were ringed with dark circles. “I hope Dellalt is treating you well.”

“It is not. I’m looking forward to our departure from this planet, in fact. It does nothing but rain, near constantly.”

Anything to be back on Corellia again.  
Those had been the best days of his life, where they’d laid in the sunshine outside Nate’s Kor Vella estate, before the war dragged Brad back to the war, and the other back to the Galactic Core.  
“That would be quite nice, wouldn’t it? You, back on Coruscant. We could perhaps even make time to run into each other.” Nate’s tone was good-natured, but there was a bitterness behind his words. “The Senate is about to convene- and I’m sure you’re very busy, General. I’ll let you go.” His eyes softened, and he smiled, genuine, which made Brad’s heart skip a beat. He’d never grow tired of that smile.

“May the force be with you, Senator. With luck, the war will be over soon.”

“The time for war is nearly over. I’m assured of this.”

Brad switched the comm off, shoving it back into the pocket of his robes. He hated not being able to talk freely with Nate, but he followed the Order’s teachings. Temptations of the heart and flesh would lead to the dark side- and yet, he had never felt that pull, in all the years they’d danced around each other until they’d finally fallen into one another like two stars colliding. It was the only truly pure and good thing he had left in this world.

“Let’s get going,” he said loudly, stepping away from his little hiding place, nodding at the clones in his command.

There was a simplicity in battle- the droids were not alive in any true sense of the word, there was no guilt in cutting them down, no families to mourn the loss, no suffering. They were simply code behind metal, unlike his men- flesh and blood and bone.

“How’s the missus?” Ray teased, sidling up to Brad as they began the trek towards the tunnel systems, feet sinking slightly in the soft earth.

“None of your business, Ray. Focus on the task at hand. I know it’s difficult, considering the sheer amount of times that your mother, as hardly qualified for that title as she is, must have dropped you headfirst straight onto durasteel in your infancy.” He was nearly smiling though, in a surprisingly pleasant mood despite the upcoming battle. He knew this was serious, that this was part of the end of the war- Count Dooku was dead, and the Separatists were falling quickly under the march of the Republic’s forces, but yet there was a certain surety to the   
The sooner Dellalt was under Republic command, the sooner Brad could go home- go back to Nate and live his life.  
The Jedi were peacekeepers, not soldiers. He wanted a world where he did not have to be the hammer of justice, simply its guardian. War had long since grown old, and Brad with it.  
Brad shook his head, bemused, as they continued slogging through the mud

He noticed too late- the surge of hatred and pain and fear through the force that nearly brought him to his knees.

An explosion in the distance rocked the earth, the cliff above crumbling downwards, pelting them with clumps of rock and wet earth, and it shocked Brad into action, bringing the rest of the cliff down as the clones began firing their blasters, an avanchance of mud that crushed the men beneath the sheer weight of the earth.  
Something horrible had just begun, he thought briefly. The Jedi’s heart was racing, dread growing in him, heart heavy and sinking quicker with every beat.  
Brad looked down at a clone, reaching out desperately for Brad, a plea for mercy perhaps, lying in the mud, face obscured by his helmet. As much as the clones had tried to kill him- they’d been his friends too, and he turned away, unable to look at what he’d caused.

“Let’s go.”  
He needed to find his apprentice, get off this planet, get back to Corellia. Nate would know what to do- he always did. The wave of anxiety that flooded Brad was not lifted when they made it to the entrance of the Northern tunnel, only to find it entirely covered in rocks.  
A desperate fear pushed him forward, clawing at the rocks with his bare hands, dragging them away. Maybe Trombley was alive under there, beneath the rubble. _Please_ . His hands were raw, black dirt beneath his nails as he dug into the earth, eyes burning with tears. He could feel something just beyond the next stone,and when he heaved it out of the way, he saw a small hand, dirty and battered, clutching a lightsaber. A desperate little noise tore itself out of his throat, grabbing at it to pull the boy out- and pulling away both the hand and the saber. Horrified, he dropped it, before he tried to dig at the rocks again.  
“Brad, _Brad_ ,” Ray snapped, grabbing the back of his robes, dragging him away from the caved-in tunnel.“ _Stop._ There’s nothing you can do. There's no way he's still alive.”  
Brad took a deep, shuddering breath, turning to pick up the saber, trying not to look at the severed hand.

He’d failed his task as a master- and now his padawan was dead, because of orders he’d called for. He never should have sent the boy out alone, but there would be time to mourn later on, when they knew what was happening.  
“There’s ships at the base- we could take one, jump into hyperspace and try to contact the Order,” Ray suggested, voice strained. He was sodden with the rain, looking smaller than ever, a sort of defenseless exhaustion in the way he stood.  
Brad’s holocom pinged, and he pulled it from his pocket, eyebrows furrowing as the message began.  
“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”  
“I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen.. With a dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place.”  
“This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in The Force. Do not return to the Temple…that time has passed. And our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust. Our faith. Our friendships. But we must persevere. And in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you, always.”  
The transmission ended, quickly as it had begun. Brad could feel his head spinning, worry and fear pushing his heart rate higher. The Republic had fallen? Was Nate alright? The war had been all but over- Count Dooku was dead, the Army of the Republic had been pushing the Droid Army back, and yet, somehow this had happened.

“We need to leave,” he said quietly, breaking the nervous silence that had permeated the air around them.

An hour later and Ray was pulling wires and twisting them together in the underbelly of a ship, as Brad couched nearby, keeping an eye out for anyone coming up to them.  
As much as he was looking, it’d been an unpleasant surprise when the Clones had appeared, blaster bolts pinging off the hull of the ship.  
He was thankful now, that he’d mastered the defensive forms, when he ignited his lightsaber, deflecting most of the shots coming their way.  
“I got it!” Ray crowed, triumphant, though he sounded strained, crawling out from under the ship, as the door opened up, and he hopped up on the gangplank. Before Brad could move, could respond, Ray’s body jerked in an odd half-turn, time slowing to a crawl. Brad twisted, watching the surprise on Ray’s face as he looked at Brad, his left arm and a sizable part of his chest blown off, still glowing red with the residual heat from the ion cannon.

He toppled down into the ship, a wet thump against the durasteel deck, before Brad’s vision whited out, a ringing sound roaring in his head.  
This couldn’t be happening.   
This couldn’t be real. 

Brad lifted his hand, the clone who’d fired the weapon rising up with it, and the flush of white-hot rage and anguish flooding his veins fuelled him- crushing the man into a gory mass of bone, sinew, and plastoid armour. The clone screamed a lot longer than Brad thought anyone would survive.

The others hardly stood a chance. He’d been granted the title of Master for a reason, even though he’d declined a seat on the council. There was a sick sense of joy in it, feeling the hardly-there resistance of the lightsaber through flesh. It had a satisfaction that battle droids lacked because they felt _pain_ and he relished in it.  
  
Steam was rising up from the muddied bodies around him, billowing off in clouds from his lightsaber, the low hum the only thing beyond the sound of the rain pattering on the muddy earth.  
He slid to his knees in the mud, panting hard, switching his lightsaber off.  
What had he done?  
The reality set in with a wave of horror, the guilt and fear, and he turned away, emptying the contents of his stomach into the mud, dry heaving and gasping for air. Brad hauled himself to his feet, wobbling to the ship and all but collapsing onto the durasteel deck next to Ray with a broken cry, sitting and staring blankly at the remains of his former padawan.

“Ray, Ray, _please_ ,” he whispered, reaching out to touch the young Jedi’s face, wiping away a smear of mud before pulling the corpse to him, a wretched mockery of a hug. “Come back to me, please, _please, please-”_ he sobbed into Ray’s hair.  
He’d lost so much, he thought, rocking back and forth slowly, feeling the slow cooling of the body in his arms. There was nothing left but Nate on Corellia, somewhere he knew he couldn’t go- the core worlds would be swarming with Republic troops now, after whatever had happened on Coruscant.  
He got back to his feet, dragging the body back into the ship before he fired up the shuttle, leaving the wretched planet behind

The Jedi Order forbade attachment, and yet here he was.

Sitting in the cockpit of the _Lambda_ -class shuttle, there was an overwhelming sense of emptiness in Brad’s chest. He put his head in his hands, the final message he’d received playing through his head over and over again.  
_“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”_ _  
_ _“I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen.._ _With a dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place.”_ _  
_ Hot tears stung his eyes, the bitter taste of bile in the back of his mouth.  
_“This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in The Force. Do not return to the Temple…that time has passed. And our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust. Our faith. Our friendships. But we must persevere.”_

Tears dripped down his hands, soaking into his robes as he stared at his lap, eyes wide and burning with the salt.  
He’d failed. He’d failed them all- and it made him dizzy with guilt as he brought his hands down, gripping the coarse fabric of his tunic.

Brad took a deep, ragged breath, shuddering as he looked at his hands, the dried blood lining the grooves of his hands, dirt under his nails and along the hems of his sleeve. Every single aspect of his appearance now reminded him of his inability as a Jedi- as a protector of the peace. It was pathetic.  
He didn’t have the energy to turn, to see the evidence of his failures, but he could still smell the burnt flesh and cloth, though he didn’t dare look at the body wrapped in his muddy cloak on the floor of the ship.  
Both of his apprentices were dead, and it was his fault. But he would not allow the same fate to befall Nate. He would not let the one good thing he had left be ruined by his presence.

Brad had set the ship off into the unknown, drifting through hyperspace.

“Nate. If you ever get this, I’m probably dead.”  
It hurt to make the holovid. There was a wretched impossibility in speaking freely, when he’d spent so long guarding his words and hiding everything away from the Order, keeping his feelings pushed down deep inside.  
“I don’t know what happened, but the clones turned on us.”

Brad swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He could see his tear-stained, muddy face in the transmission, looking far older than his years.  
“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, or hold you- and I wish I could promise you that we’d meet again, but I can’t. I can’t promise anything anymore- the future is clouded by the Dark Side- nothing makes sense.”  
“I just want you to know. I love you. You’re the only good thing I’ve ever had, Nate. You were the only thing beyond the Order, the only thing that was my choice. You showed me everything, not just surviving, but truly being _alive_. If I don’t get the chance to tell you again, I want you to know that you were my life’s best part.”

He scrubbed his hand over his face before he looked up again. “All of my happiest memories have you in them. And I am so grateful I got the chance to love you. It’s more than I could have ever hoped to ask for. This isn't a farewell, Nate. This is a thank you, because saying goodbye doesn’t mean anything- it’s the time we spent together that matters, not the way we left it.”

“May the force be with you, my love, always.”

**Author's Note:**

> please simply do not think too hard about this


End file.
